


If You're Wondering if I Want You To (I Want You To)

by Draikinator



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-01
Updated: 2015-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-07 03:45:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4248102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draikinator/pseuds/Draikinator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A request for a friend. <3 ITS VERY SHORT BECAUSE WRITING ABOUT PIPES GOT ME VERY UPSET VERY QUICKLY</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You're Wondering if I Want You To (I Want You To)

“Ow!”

“Aw, geez, sorry, hang on, let me just-” First Aid tugged the plating on Pipes’s leg back into place and clamped it down, fishing the welder off the side table and dimming his visor. He waved at Pipes to avert his eyes, and slapped the power on.

Pipes stared up at the ceiling and tried not to fidget.

“So,” he said, because Pipes looked entirely nervous around an open flame and First Aid frankly did not blame him, “What _did_ you do to your leg?”

“Oh, I mean, you know,” Pipes said with a shrug, before going rigid again when First Aid grabbed his leg to keep it from shifting into the welder, “Whirl was throwin’ a fit at Swerve’s cuz he got cut off, and then Drift called Rodimus and he called Trailbreaker and by the end of the whole thing there’s me with a big ol’ hole in my leg.”

First Aid snorted, “Of course it was Whirl. It’s _always_ Whirl.”

“Actually I think it was one of Brainstorm’s weird guns misfiring, it was the wrong direction for Wh-”

First Aid waved a hand dismissively, “Word of advice, if you can blame Whirl, always blame Whirl.”

Pipes shrugged with a chuckle, “If you say so.”

First Aid clicked off the welder and tossed it back on the table a little carelessly, then pulled the clamp off the plating.

“Alright, here, hop up and put some weight on that.”

Pipes did as he was told, bouncing lightly on the repaired hydraulics and leaning carefully on the new, unpainted limb, “Hey! That’s a pretty good job!”

First Aid puffed, visor glowing, “Heh, well, thank you, Pipes.”

“Nooo, seriously!” Pipes said, bouncing on the one leg a bit, “I think this might actually be the nicest leg I’ve ever had!”

“How many legs have you had?”

“More than I really wanna admit with Ambulon in the room.”

First Aid failed to stifle a laugh, vocalizer spitting startled static and he shut it off, spinning to look at Ambulon, reading some kind of medical datapad at his desk, who just waved absently, and First Aid rebooted his vocalizer, trying to keep the smile out of his voice, “That’s low.”

“It’s a leg,” Pipes said, “Sort of below the belt automatically, I think.”

First Aid laughed again.

“Get a room,” Ambulon commented deadpan, flipping the page on his datapad with a disinterested swipe.

Pipes’s faceplate heated up, and he fidgeted embarrassedly, rubbing the back of his helm and settling down on both pedes.

“You wanna?” First Aid asked in a totally-not-fake casual way.

“Huh?”

“Get a room. Or, uh, a booth, at Swerve’s, or whatever.”

Pipes perked up, “Seriously? Now??”

First Aid nodded.

“Well- uh- yeah!”

“Yo, I’m taking my off-shift!” Aid said, waving at Ambulon who waved back without looking up and First Aid grabbed Pipes’s hand, nodding to the door, “come on!”


End file.
